Liar, Liar, Heart on Fire
by TheoreticallyEva
Summary: Judy never misses an opportunity to defend Nick and tell everyone that he's an honest fox these days. Nick doesn't see it that way.


**A/N: This one-shot is nothing but pure fluff.**

 **I'm not even sure that I'm satisfied with it, but the illustrious Cimar liked it and encouraged me to post it, so here I am.**

 **Take it and go. I must think about what I've done. *exits dramatically***

* * *

If my shady past ever gets brought up, you're always quick to let everyone know that I've turned my life around, that I'm a perfectly trustworthy fox these days. I just smile and nod, because how could you possibly know?

I'm three times the liar now that I was before.

Although I was an expert at walking along the tightrope between legitimacy and crime, some degree of dishonesty was always necessary to pull off my schemes. Still, I never lied more than the occasion demanded. Too many lies create too many webs, and too many webs attract spiders that will soon catch you in them.

So it used to be that I would lie about half the time I opened my mouth.

These days, I lie just about every time I talk to you. Or about you.

For example, remember when I said that I didn't really care for having my tail cuddled with, but I'd let you do it anyway? I don't even know how I could say that with a straight face. If your paw so much as brushes my tail, I feel as though the electricity that rushes through me could light up all of Zootopia.

And that time that I dismissed your concerns about missing our movie night so that you could go on a date with some star-struck buck who was deluded enough to think he was worthy to so much as look at you—it's a miracle that I didn't give away the game by spitting out every word between clenched teeth.

Oh, and when you returned from that date shrugging and saying that it wasn't that great and that you didn't plan on going out for a second one—I'd never been so smug about lying in my life when I said I was sorry it didn't go well. Then I lied again when I told you a wave of exhaustion had suddenly changed my mood when it was really an itching sense of guilt; how dare I be happy about you not finding someone?

I also lied with relish when I assured you that I wasn't deliberately trying to cut off the circulation in that hyena I was pawcuffing the other day. That's what he gets for scratching your arm so badly that you needed stitches afterward.

I'm not sure if you've ever heard me tell Clawhauser that I don't think of you as anything more than a friend. That one stings just a little more every time, but I think I've just about got him convinced, which is kind of disappointing, in a way. His steadfast belief in us has been like food to the sense of hope that I've kept starving but haven't been able to entirely kill.

However, the most blatant lies occur when I _don't_ open my mouth.

I meant what I said before—I didn't let things get to me for a long, long time. No one could hurt me because I never let them get that close. I didn't feel like I was being dishonest when I declined to speak up to defend myself against the prejudices directed toward me because I just didn't let them bother me in the first place. In fact, as you know, I embraced them.

Now I have to hold my tongue whenever I see you in the morning so that I don't tell you how radiant you look.

I have to resist explaining exactly what I think about the way that you occasionally doubt your own talents and charms.

In order to avoid topics that veer too close to my romantic preferences, I pull another stupid joke from my endless mental arsenal and distract you with it. You're too smart; if I give you so much as a bone, you'll soon uncover the whole skeleton.

I can't let you know that you get to me.

Who knew that lies of omission could be so difficult to tell?

But the hardest lies of all are the ones that don't involve words at all.

Every time I ignore the urge to embrace you, dance with you, touch your shoulder, sweep you off your feet, nuzzle your neck, peck your cheek, or kiss you absolutely senseless, it feels like I'm lying to you and to the whole world. If I'm constantly forcing myself to be anything less than open and authentic about my feelings toward you, how could I be anything but a liar?

Nevertheless, I've resigned myself to enduring the rest of my life playing pretend like this, because the joy you bring to me is more real than anything else I've ever experienced.

If you had known all of this, I'm sure you would understand why I'm now gazing at you with my eyes wide and my mouth hanging open like a lopsided broken drawer.

When I'd pestered you to tell me why you seemed so upset after questioning a robbery witness, this was the last thing I was expecting.

"I was jealous, okay?!" you snapped at me a second ago. Now I'm trying to suppress my shock enough to listen as you sigh and continue. "That vixen was really into you, and you seemed to like her, too. You kept… looking at her mouth and smiling."

That's hilarious. I kept looking at her _teeth_. I was trying to figure out what was stuck between them. If I weren't keenly aware of what a pivotal moment this is, I'd be laughing myself to tears. As it is, I'm just standing here, trying to regain control of my mind, and failing miserably at it.

And you're completely misinterpreting my stunned silence because now you look embarrassed. No, _ashamed_. Is that panic taking over my lungs? Because it feels like panic.

"I'm sorry, I know this must be awkward," you're saying as you look away. Oh, _please_ don't look away. "But I just want to be honest with you."

Are you kidding? I've spent all this time lying to you, and my reward is your honesty? I really don't deserve you.

"I—I've been thinking a lot, and I realized something." You keep talking while I'm still trying to catch up. You look back at me with those eyes, the very first thing I noticed when we met. "I'm in love with you. I think I have been for a long time."

You're staring. I'm staring. I'm trying to speak, but my heart has jumped into my throat. It's blocking my breath and suppressing my voice.

I glimpse a tear welling in the corner of your eye as you start to turn away. You're going to run, I realize, and if I let you go, it will be the biggest and most horrible lie I'll ever tell.

That's what finally snaps me out of it. I grab your arm to bring you close and press my mouth against yours.

In that kiss, I try to scream into you every truth that I've been hiding. With every movement of my lips, I try to tell you how much I cherish each of your touches, how it tortured me to know that you were on a date with someone else, how ardently I desire to be the one to make you happy, how deeply I want to protect you from any and all harm, how ecstatic I would be to tell Clawhauser and everybody else that I belong to you. With each breath we exchange as the kiss grows more impassioned, I hope you understand how beautiful I find you, how sweet your voice sounds to me, how I adore your every quality and quirk, how I even treasure your flaws. With each groan I release as I pull you closer, I'm desperate for you to realize that I'm mad, mad, _mad_ for you.

You respond. You know now. And you feel the same way for me. For _me_.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind that haven't been utterly conquered by the sensations coursing through my body right now, I realize with a deluge of sheer, unadulterated elation that there's no reason for me to hold anything back anymore. Once again, your sincerity and openness have changed me, freed me, made me more myself.

I can finally, finally, _finally_ stop lying.

You may truly make an honest fox out of me yet.


End file.
